Geronimo?
by KingofAllRight
Summary: Non-canon story for post-eleventh. Doctor/Amy


"Clara! Stand back!" I warned, taking another step from her.

"What? Why? I don't understand." She matched my stride, completely clueless as to what was about to happen.

"I'll explain-" Pain seared through me "in a moment."

"But you said you were dying!" She took another step in my direction.

"I am, but I'm going to regenerate. It's very high-energy, and-"

"Like an explosion?" She interrupted.

There were at least a thousand reasons that my regeneration was **not** like an explosion, but talking was becoming nearly impossible, so it would have to do. "Yes. Like an explosion. Now stand back!" She actually obeyed this time, taking a few steps towards the door. "Thank you." I tried to keep my voice even, but it was impossible. "Now I should warn you, I'm going to-" Everything went black.

* * *

I looked around as soon as I could see again. Everything was as I left it, including Clara, who was still standing by the door with one hand on the railing and a very, very confused look on her face.

"Sorry. I tr-" My tongue clumsily slapped into my teeth. "New mouth. Weird..." My train of thought was brought back to the present, "Right. I was trying to tell you, but I wasn't quite quick enough."

She took a step back. "Who are you?"

I smiled, "I'm the Doctor. Same me. New face and body and, well, everything. But the same memories and feelings, mostly."

Clara wasn't convinced. "Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"I don't make a habit of going around talking about what happens when I die." I returned evenly.

"Obviously not." She snapped back.

Maybe a change of subject would help. "Where would you like to go?" I gestured magnificently before turning to my console.

She considered me for a moment. "Home."

"Oh." I looked up, only to see finality. "All right. Home it is." I typed in the coordinates, and sighed as I pulled the wibbly lever. I felt her land a few moments later, but Clara made no indication that she was going to be moving. "There you are." I waved to the door. "Home, sweet home."

She looked me over for another moment before turning on her heels. "Goodbye, Clara." I offered as she opened the door. She left without a word, slamming the door shut behind her.

I stayed there for a couple of minutes before I decided that she wasn't actually going to come back. I threw the wibbly lever again, launching the TARDIS into deep space.

I must have spent days there, just sitting around doing nothing of importance. At some point, I knew I needed a change of scenery. I needed to hear voices again, other than my own. Victorian England wouldn't do this time, though. I needed something different, something far less serious. I wanted a big, American city during the time of the flappers. Yes, the 1920s would do me well.

* * *

With the TARDIS landed, and my outfit in order, I glanced at myself quickly in the long mirror. It's always a nice thing to know what one looks like after a regeneration. I hadn't appeared to change appearance that much after all. My brown hair was a little bit shorter, and I had eyebrows this time around. My chin wasn't intrusive, and neither was my nose. And freckles: I had freckles. And- "still not ginger!" I exclaimed in an exasperated fashion to myself. The freckles were promising, though. Maybe next time...

My actual outfit hadn't changed much. I went without the suspenders, as they'd gotten in the way a few times in the past, but everything else remained much the same. After one last quick glance, I went straight for the doors. I was determined to pretend that everything was okay for a while.

* * *

I took in the buildings before me. This definitely wasn't New York City, as I had originally planned. It was a city, and it was in the North of the States, but it was not New York. The huge sign gave it away: Chicago. I hesitated for a moment before mumbling a "close enough" and continuing on my way. The large, burly men in pinstripe suits ignored me, but the occasional one glanced in my direction. This wasn't my concern; I only really cared about getting lost for a bit.

* * *

After a five-hour escapade, I was no closer to being lost than when I'd started. I quickly stumbled back around to my TARDIS, tired and sick of the noisy, bustling, rude, American city life. I turned the corner to see a few policemen near my Old Gal, and the beginnings of a large, noisy crowd gathering. Feeling a bit reckless, I decided to make the most of the attention. I quickly slid my way to the front. The policemen made to stop me, but my words froze them.

"Hello everyone!" I waited for the crowd's attention. "I'm The Doctor, and you all are about to witness the most advanced piece of magic (I winced at using that word) you've ever beheld! Now, who wants to see this police box disappear?" The yelling and cheering answered my question rather definitively.

"If you'll excuse me." I moved past the officers, who were equally entranced by my claims. I turned to face the crowd. "Now, it's one thing to make this police box vanish, but I'm going to do it after stepping inside of it myself!" More cheers: this really was too easy. I swaggered to my TARDIS, knowing that nothing could stop me now.

"DOCTOR!" I turned around to see long red hair. Okay, maybe one thing could stop me.

"Let her come through." I said quietly to the policemen, who had resumed doing their jobs. They obliged. "How are you here?" I whispered to her after she nearly tackled me. "Where's Rory?"

She shook her head, "Later."

I nodded, "This," I raised Amy's hand, "is my lovely assistant!" Cheers and applause were followed by whistling and cat-calls. "She'll walk into the TA- police box first. I'll follow." More obscene noise.

Amy walked to the TARDIS and pulled the doors, but had no luck. "Doctor, it's locked."

"Of course!" I said to the crowd, "I forgot the key!" I pulled the key out of my jacket pocket and walked to the TARDIS. "Keep the door as closed as you can. Bigger on the inside." She nodded as I unlocked the doors. She stepped in first, and I followed a second later with a "Goodbye, everyone!" As soon as I'd shut the door, I pulled out my Sonic Screwdriver and activated the wibbly lever. We didn't actually have to land anywhere, and judging by the look on Amy's face, there would be quite a bit to talk about.

* * *

"What ha-"

"Your face. You've changed." She interrupted me.

I nodded, "It's regeneration. It's a Timelord's way of cheating death."

She slapped my shoulder, "I know that, you git. I was there when River gave you her remaining regenerations." I nodded again, having completely forgotten about that. "Didn't I tell you not to travel alone?"

I opened my mouth, but then realized I didn't know where to start. "Remember the Dalek Asylum?" She nodded. "And the girl who was actually a Dalek?" Another nod. "Well, I ran into her after you... well... yeah." I couldn't bring myself to talk about it, not even in front of a very alive Amelia Pond. "In Victorian England." I continued. "But she died."

"Again?"

I nodded. "It's impossible."

"Could she be a Time... Lordess?"

I laughed a little, eliciting another hit from her. "Timelady. And no, I don't think so... She'd still have the memories of her past regenerations if she were a Timelady, and she didn't remember me at all." I shook my head. "And then I met her again."

"Again?" Amy's eyebrow had remained hitched high on her forehead this entire time.

"Yeah. And she didn't remember either previous encounter."

"Are you sure she was the same person?"

I nodded, "Clara Oswin Oswald."

She smirked, "That must have driven you mad." I waited for an explanation. She complied. "A mystery the great Doctor couldn't solve..." She teased.

"Oy." I tried to make my voice hard, but she just giggled at me. "Anyways, I got wounded and regenerated. She refused to stay with me, so I took her home and left."

Amy frowned, "What? You're not even all that different." She closed the distance between us and ran her finger over my bowtie. "And you still have the bowtie."

"Bowties." I playfully swatted her hand away, ignoring her protest. "Are." I readjusted it. "Cool."

"You really are from another planet." She said, with an eyeroll to accompany her words.

"I most certainly am." I stood tall, although I was barely taller than her.

Her eyebrows furrowed in anger. "And she really just left you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. She really did."

"I'm sorry." She hugged me again, resting her chin on my shoulder.

I ignored how nice I thought her hugs were for a moment, gently pushing her away. "So, let's go pick up Rory."

Her face went from happy to teary so quickly that I regretted ever suggesting it. "Amelia, what's wrong? What happened?" She just shook her head again, her tears now falling freely. "We can save him." I moved towards the console, but she stopped me by pulling me into another hug.

Through her quiet quiet sobs, I heard her say, "He... with another girl."

"What?" I knew I hadn't heard right.

She slid down my arms, sitting on the floor. I followed her. "He cheated on me." She said with a heroic effort before dissolving into tears again. I still couldn't believe it; Rory was the most loyal person I'd ever met, with the possible exception of K-9.

I heard myself stuttering in my own disbelief, and forcibly shut my own mouth. "As soon as we left you, he changed. He didn't really care about me anymore." I could hear the anger in her voice rising, "It was like everything he'd done before was just to compete with you!" I blinked, and then blinked again.

"I'm so, so sorry, Amy." I squeezed her more tightly now, and let her tears fall in peace.

She finally attempted to compose herself and change the subject. "What were you doing in Chicago?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She looked down at my feet, "I wanted to get lost after what happened."

I nodded, my chin rubbing against her shoulder. "Me, too." My mind travelled back in time quickly, but it stopped at a particular inconsistency. "The afterword, in the Melody Malone book." She looked up at me, but her pitiful eyes couldn't stop my question, "Why did you lie to me?"

"You said that you'd never be able to come get me, but I knew if I'd written the truth, you would have tried, or broken with the knowledge that you couldn't save me this time."

"So instead, you went to Chicago, in the 1920s. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is there?"

She put a finger to my lips, shushing me. "I found you there, raggedy man. Don't question it." She had a point there, and her insistence on being pushy with me was far too adorable to stop. I listened to and felt her breathing get more shallow. I smiled as I ran a hand through her hair. As gently as I could, I picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. The TARDIS had refused to let me delete it after Manhattan, a fact I was now thankful for. I looked at her peaceful face and saw the hint of a smile. It wasn't an impish grin or a mischievous smirk like she normally wore; it was instead a simple, contented smile. She wore it well. I softly kissed her forehead before silently exiting the room.

* * *

"Doctor?" I heard coming from down the hallways.

"In the kitchen!" I returned loudly, letting my voice bounce off of the walls.

The soft, quick padding of her uncovered feet quickly came closer. She shot around the last corner, practically bouncing off the opposite wall in her refusal to slow down even a step. I braced myself a moment before she jumped into me, and was most grateful that I'd reacted fast enough to do so. "Everything okay, Amelia?"

She nodded into my shoulder, "I thought it was all a dream. And then I woke up, and I was in my room in the TARDIS, but it was my old room." I nodded, turning back to the frying pan on the stove. "And I'm rambling again but are you cooking breakfast?"

"Yes. I suppose I am." I said, flipping the eggs.

"For me?"

"Most certainly, Miss Pond." I gave an exaggerated bow, which sent her into a small fit of giggles.

"When did you learn how to cook?"

"I'm over a millenium old," I argued, "I've had plenty of time to master the art of eggs and bacon." I gestured to a plate on the counter, and she helped herself to quite a bit, which made me cook another helping of food. "You haven't been eating well, have you?" She shook her head, avoiding eye contact. "Well, I'll soon fix that." I borrowed a line I'd used with her years before. She noticed, if the sudden smile on her face was any indication.

Breakfast was done and eaten, and the clean dishes dripped in the large strainer. We were back in the main room, and I was fiddling with a lever that I had no idea the purpose of. "So, I imagine you'd like to go home." I said. hoping she'd say that I was mistaken.

She chose option C. "I am home."

I smiled, "Just like old times, then?"

Her smile broadened, "Just like old times, raggedy man."

With a wink, and an exaggerated motion, I pulled the wibbly lever. My voice was barely above a whisper."Geronimo."


End file.
